


Prompts

by ChimaeraKitten



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, No editing we die like mne, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, prompts, some are crack, some are fluff some are angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:59:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11821731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChimaeraKitten/pseuds/ChimaeraKitten
Summary: Prompts crossposted from Tumblr because my tagging system is terrible and I'll lose them otherwise.





	1. “No. Don’t you dare shut me out!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> camsthisky asked:  
> 16) “No. Don’t you dare shut me out!” With Dick and one of his brothers please??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Cam, This was a good one! I decided on Dick and Jason, but I was sorely tempted to do Dick and Damian. Some other time maybe.  
> Featuring the redbird (because I fucking love that car) and Tim’s unconscious body. Also beware of total BS science. I know nothing. Don’t ask me where this is on the timeline, I don’t know.

Dick knew something was wrong the moment the redbird screamed into the cave. For one, Tim had his own garage under the theater, much closer to his patrol route, and secondly, Tim never drove that that fast coming into the cave, not even in an emergency.

All or which was why Dick wasn’t particularly surprised when Jason, sans helmet, shot out of the Redbird’s driver’s seat.

“Help me with him!”

Dick was across the cave in a flash, watching Jason pull a panicked, flailing Tim out of the passenger seat. “What happened?”

Jason didn’t answer, instead opting to step into the medbay and dump Tim unceremoniously on the nearest gurney.

“Could be fear gas, could be one of Ivy’s—“ Jason paused, grabbing ahold of one of Tim’s flailing legs and strapping it down to the gurney. “—Could be both.”

Dick swore. “Did you give him anything?”

Jason shook his head. “Didn’t want to make it worse by giving him the wrong thing.”

Dick swore again, moving to help just as Jason managed to entrap Tim’s other leg. He noted that Tim wasn’t crying out like he usually did when in the throws of fear gas, just thrashing around.

“Here,” Jason said the second Tim was secure, passing Dick one of his gloves. “I didn’t have time to get at the release mechanism, but it was more of a powder than a gas, so there’s probably residue.”

Dick took it, stepped toward the computers, and then hesitated. He really couldn’t do anything for Tim until they knew what it was, and yet...

Luckily, Jason seemed to know exactly what Dick was thinking.

“Is the setup the same as last month?” he asked, though what he was really saying was, _do you want to stay with him_?

“Yeah,” Dick sighed in relief, handing the glove back.

Jason nodded and ran over to the computers, getting the materials out to run the mystery toxin.

Dick pealed Tim’s gloves off so he could get a pulse. Unsurprisingly, it was elevated. “What makes you think it could be Ivy? This seems more in line with one of Crane’s.”

“The stuff seemed kinda like pollen.” Jason explained. “Though that could just be what expired fear gas looks like.”

“Expired?” Dick asked, pulling off Tim’s cowl to check his eyes.

“I ran into Red investigating what I thought was a weapons cache. Judging by the dust, no one had been there in a year at least.”

Dick pressed his lips together. Fear gas that old usually lost some of its potency- that could explain why Tim didn’t seem to be having hallucinations. But then again, this might not be fear gas. He smoothed Tim’s hair way from his sweaty forehead. They really needed those test results.

They waited for another moment, the silence only punctuated by Tim’s heavy breathing. He didn’t seem to be fighting the restraints anymore; instead he was just tense from head to toe. Definitely not a normal fear gas reaction.

Jason walked back over, tired of waiting by the computers. “I figure you probably would have called him already if he was, but is Alfred around?”

Dick shook his head. “He’s with Damian in San Francisco.”

Jason looked conflicted for a moment. “Should we call Leslie?”

“I doubt she’d be any more effective than us.” _Which is not at all_ , Dick didn’t say.

Just then, the computer chimed. Jason ran back over, looking at one of the smaller monitors. “Shit.”

Dick tried not to panic. “What?”

“It’s definitely pollen, but beyond that, no clue.”

Jason’s league training meant he knew more about toxins, but Dick checked the results anyway.

“I’m calling Bruce.” Jason wouldn’t like it, but this wasn’t either of their area of expertise.

Jason tensed, but didn’t say anything, which Dick took to mean that he wasn’t going to fight it.

Dick tapped his comm, returning to Tim’s side. “Batman. Red’s down. Toxin of unknown origin. We’re thinking Ivy, but it’s presenting like one of Crane’s.”

_“Is he stable?”_

Dick checked Tim’s pulse again. They needed to get him on a heart monitor. “Yes, but no signs of recovery.”

_“I’ll be there in twenty.”_

The line cut out. At Jason’s look, Dick said, “Twenty minutes.”

Jason set his mouth in a grim line. “No point in me hanging around then.”

“You don’t need to leave. Bruce won’t—“

“Really not the time, Dickie.”

If that was how Jason wanted to do this. “I’ll need your help if he crashes.”

“He won’t,” Jason said, “It’s been almost an hour since his first exposure and he’s been like this the whole time. Nothing is going to change in twenty minutes.”

Dick looked Jason in the eye. “Could you live with yourself if it did?”

For a second, it looked like Jason was going to storm away, but then he yanked one of the medbay chairs over closer to him and sat down. “Fine.” He snapped. “You win. I’ll stay so Bruce can chew me out. Happy?”

Dick _so_ wasn’t in the mood. “Yes.” He snapped back. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to focus on the actual injury here. Not your wounded pride.”

Jason turned away, and Dick turned back to Tim. He’d started fighting the restraints again.

It was another several minutes before Jason spoke again. “Sorry.”

Dick squeezed Tim’s hand and sighed. “I’m sorry too. That was a low blow.”

Jason shook his head. “You were right. I’m just not looking forward to hearing about how badly I fucked up.”

Dick frowned. Jason might have self-worth issues, but usually he was willing to defend his choices, especially if they ended up being correct. “You did the right thing. If you’d given him an antidote to something we could be in an even worse predicament.”

Jason huffed. “I _know_ I did that part right.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Jason looked down.

“Jason…”

“It’s nothing, okay? I just don’t like getting yelled at.”

For a blatant lie, it was delivered well. Dick might even have believed it if it weren’t for the fact that he knew Jason preferred yelling to almost any other form of communication.

“Jason, if you’re worried about Tim—“

Jason threw up his hands. “It’s fine! Okay? Leave it.”

“No, don’t you dare shut me out.”

“Well I’m fucking sorry,” Jason growled, “but it doesn’t work that way.”

Dick was getting properly angry now. “How the fuck _does_ it work, then?”

“It doesn’t work at all! You don’t get to just play therapist whenever the fuck you want, acting like we’re—“ He gestured to the cave around him, indication he meant all of them, not just Dick and Tim. “—Just some dysfunctional family. Because we’re fucking not, Dick, this was never a family in the first place. But you pretend it is—“

“What the hell happened out there that got you so worked up?”

“—And when it inevitably blows up in your face, it doesn’t just hurt you, it hurts everyone. Including him.” Jason pointed at Tim. “You want to know what _happened_ , Dick? He showed up at _my_ investigation, interfered with _my_ work, and got burned for it.” Jason paused, clenching and unclenching his fists. “When he should _know_ by now that it’s in his best interest to stay the fuck away from me. And you know why? Because _you_ have him in some _fantasy_ where if he just works hard enough then the little broken bird will return to the nest and everyone will be _happy_.”

The reasonable part of Dick’s brain knew he should probably get a reign on his temper before he sad something he’d regret, but the rest of him was to mad to listen to it. “So _that’s_ what it is. You’re so wrapped up in your little ‘daddy doesn’t love me’ revenge world, that when someone acts like maybe they _care_ about you, you get all pissed off because it doesn’t fit in with your worldview. Because maybe if people _did_ care about you, if daddy _did_ love you, then maybe you’ve _wasted_ your second chance. Maybe you weren’t _right_. Maybe you were just _angry_. Have you ever thought about _that_ , Jason?”

Jason stood up, nearly knocking his chair over. “Fuck you, Dick. I’m out.”

 _Shit_. “Bruce won’t be home for another ten minutes.”

Jason laughed. “And maybe he won’t be too late for _this_ Robin.”

And with that, Jason stomped off, leaving Dick alone with Tim.

“ _Shit_.” Dick whispered, leaning his head into Tim’s shoulder. “You were trying to do something good tonight, and I ruined it.”

 

* * *

 

_“What the hell are you doing here, Red?”_

_“Can’t a guy just want to hang out with his older brother?”_

_“A guy **can** , doesn’t mean a guy **should**.”_

_“Are we gonna bust this place or not?”_

_“Yeah, sure, whatever. Try not to trip me up.”_

_…_

_“Is it just me, or does this place look way less used than we thought?”_

_“ **We** thought? **I** thought. This is my intel.”_

_“Well your intel was bad. Look at all this dust— HOOD, TRIPWIRE!”_

_…_

_“Shit, Red, what were you thinking? I’m wearing a fucking helmet. I can handle gasses. You’re lucky this stuff is so old, or being a self-sacrificing idiot would really come back to bite—“_

_THUMP._

_“Red? RED!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, ten minutes is the amount of time on the bomb Joker left in the warehouse in A Death in the Family. The more you know!


	2. Blackberries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They really want Alfred's cobbler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Komadoriwonder requested blackberry picking fluff.

“Why is it so hooooooooooot?” Dick complained from his place on the kitchen floor.

“It’s summer.” Tim replied from somewhere Dick couldn’t see. “And didn’t the circus winter in Florida?”

Dick rolled over so he could look Tim in the eye. “Tell me you aren’t more effected by this than me.”

Tim did look way worse than Dick did. For someone who practically lived in layered sweatshirts with the sleeves cut off, he really couldn’t take heat. His T-Shirt was soaked through with sweat and he’d pulled his hair into the saddest bun possible to keep it off his neck.

“No,” Tim said. “But I—“He pulled open one of the kitchen drawers to punctuate. “—Am going to do something about it.”

Dick sat up fast when he saw that Tim was taking a spoon out of the drawer. “Tim, don’t. That ice cream is Damian’s.”

Tim hummed as he pulled the gallon of ice cream out of the freezer. “I’ll just blame it on Jason.”

“Jason’s not even here today.”

“Wait for it.”

That same second there was the sound of the door slamming open and boots stomping through the foyer.

“TIM!” Jason yelled.

“KITCHEN!” Tim yelled back, making Dick wince.

Jason stomped into the kitchen. “Where’d you put it?”

Jason was, of course, still wearing his trademark leather jacket, despite the 100-degree heat.

Dick wrinkled his nose “How are you still wearing that?”

Jason shot him a look of pure distain, though he did begin removing the coat. “Because I came here on a _motorcycle_?”

“…Fair.”

“ANYWAY.” Jason whirled back to Tim. “Where’d you put it?”

Tim rolled his eyes, pulling open the ice cream container. “Where do you think?”

Jason growled.

“In the cave! Jeeze.”

Dick looked from Tim to Jason. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume always assume _I_ did something?”

Tim cleared his throat. “Actually Dick, It was me his time. I accidentally took his grapple home with me after the stakeout last night.”

“Oh,” Dick said, lowering himself back to the floor, “Okay.”

Jason looked down at him. “Why are you on the floor.”

“Becaush itsch howt.” Tim said, around a mouthful of ice cream.

“What?”

“It’s hot.” Dick explained.

“You do realize,” Jason said slowly, “That you have an entire cave underneath this house that never gets above sixty degrees even in the summer.”

“Brusch banned usch.”

“Since when have you listened to what he says?” Jason asked, indignant.

“To hot to fight him.” Dick explained.

Jason shook his head. “You guys are pathetic. I’m leaving before you infect me.”

“Rude.”

Jason was almost out the kitchen door when it slammed open again. “Grayson!” Damian shouted, stepping smoothly around Jason.

“Damian.” Dick replied smoothly. Or as smoothly as he could, lying on the floor in a pool of his own sweat.

Damian stomped over (what was with everyone and their stomping today?) until he was standing next to Dick’s head. “Cain is missing.”

Dick smiled. “I think she’s in the wine cellar. It’s a little cooler in there.”

Damian huffed. “Why are you all so pathetic.”

“See!” Jason exclaimed, pointing at Damian. “He gets it!”

Damian side-eyed Jason. “And now Todd is here being ridiculous as well.”

“Don’t lump me in with them!”

“Oh, hey!” Dick sat up. “That reminds me!”

“Oh no.” Tim said, having surreptitiously snuck Damian’s ice cream back in the freezer when no one was looking. “Nothing good begins with Dick saying ‘that reminds me’.”

Dick glared. “ _That reminds me_ that the blackberries in the back of the property are ripe and Alfred wants to make a cobbler.”

“And why does Todd being here remind you of that?”

“ _Because_ ,” Dick said, standing up. “Someone needs to pick the blackberries first.”

“Oh hell no, I’m not getting any more lacerations.” Jason said. “I’m out.”

“You are wearing a leather jacket.” Tim observed. “You really have no excuse.”

“He’s right, Jay.”

Jason whirled on Tim. “You’re a horrible little sadist, you know that?”

“I try.”

“And I can tell Damian that you were just eating his ice cream.”

“Drake!”

One fight, a collection of Cass out of the wine cellar, and a trip to the cave for protective gear later, and everyone was tromping through the underbrush at the back of the property to get to the blackberry patch.

While the others walked ahead, Dick lagged behind to guide Tim, who had been laden with Tupperware of various sizes and couldn’t see his feet.

“Watch out for those roots.”

“You could just take half of these off me, you know. I could see then.” Tim said, picking his way around the roots.

Dick grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Tim just rolled his eyes.

“GRAYSON!”

Dick sighed, scooping half the containers off of Tim’s stack. “We better go see what that’s about.”

They met up with the others at the end of the row of blackberries.

“TT, I thought you would never catch up.”

Dick smiled. “I was just helping Timmy with the containers.”

Damian huffed. He painted a comical picture, standing in the underbrush wearing his Robin boots and gloves over civies.

Dick ruffled his hair, turning to the rest of the group. “Alright, we need a plan of attack.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Dick, it’s blackberry picking, not fighting Darkseid.”

Jason looked contemplative. “No, he’s right, we need to be able to do this quickly.”

“And without pain.” Cass chimed in.

“That too.”

Dick clapped his hands together. “Alright, so. Jason and Damian are wearing the most protective gear, so it’s their job to get the ones farther back in the bush. Cass, you can get on my shoulders to reach the high-up ones. Tim can get all the easy to reach ones.”

“How come I’m on the cushy job?”

“Because Cass has better balance.”

“I can lend you my jacket and you can work with the demon brat.” Jason offered.

“I’m not working with Drake!”

At the exact same moment, Tim said, “Hell no, Jason. That jacket _reeks_.”

“Rude.”

“ _Anyway_.” Dick said, trying to get the conversation back on track. “Everyone grab a container. Let’s get picking.”

Twenty minutes later, the plan seemed to be working. The only one with lacerations seemed to be Tim (his cry of “Ouch!” rang out every minute or two when he overestimated his reach) and Damian’s picking method of stomping his way into the bush and grabbing every blackberry in sight had already filled an entire container. Jason and Cass both seemed to be following the “Two in mouth, one in bucket” rule, but at least it kept Jason from laughing at Tim whenever the younger boy hurt himself again.

“Hey Cass, you mind if I put you down for a second? This is starting to hurt.”

Rather than reply, Cass stood up on his shoulders and then back flipped off, landing without so much as a sound.

“Showoff!” Tim called.

Cass stuck her tongue out at him, and then turned to Dick. “Now your turn.”

“What?”

“Your turn to be on _my_ soulders.”

Dick scratched the back of his head. “I dunno Cass, I’m a lot heavier than you.”

Cass shook her head. “I can handle it.”

“If you’re sure.”

She spun around so he could climb up on her shoulders. Despite his fears, she seemed unbothered by the weight.

Dick had filled the tub halfway before Cass spoke again.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Dick looked down. “You haven’t?”

Cass shook her head. “Never had the time.”

And of course David Cain wouldn’t have allowed it when she was a child.

Dick grinned. “Well you’ve been missing out. I used to do this all the time with the circus. We stopped in big open fields usually, and there were always blackberries around. We never made cobbler because that required an oven and the one in our trailer rarely worked, but we made blackberry syrup all the time. My dad would serve it over pancakes on the mornings of big performances.”

Cass hummed. “Sounds… sweet.”

Dick wasn’t sure if she meant the family tradition or the syrup itself. “It was.”

“I wonder—“

Whatever Cass was going to say was interrupted by a high-pitched, childish shriek down the row from them.

Climbing down from Cass’s shoulders, Dick’s immediate thought was that Damian must have been hurt, but Damian wasn’t much of a _shrieker_ , which meant it was probably Tim.

So Dick was surprised when he got down to the other end of the row to find both boys unharmed and standing calmly a few feet away from the brambles.

“What happened!? Are you both okay?” Then something occurred to him. “And where’s Jason?”

That was when the bush started cussing Dick out.

He turned around, confused, to find Jason, a full five feet into the bush, sunken down so that hos eyes were at Dick’s chest level.

“What happened?” Dick asked.

Tim laughed. “He stepped into the bush and then he _screamed_.”

Jason glared. “There’s a drop off here!”

“So why are you still in there?” Dick asked.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m completely surrounded with thorns! And unlike the rest of me, my _face_ doesn’t have armor on it!”

“TT. I advised you to wear the helmet.”

Cass appeared next to Tim. “Like one of Ivy’s traps.”

Jason glared at each of them in turn. “Someone help me get out of here.”

“You’re pretty far in there.” Dick observed. “We might have to get the machete and cut back the vines back a bit.”

“Dick I swear to god, if you swing a machete at me I will shoot you.”

Dick snorted. “You don’t have a gun on you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow.

“There’s no way you have a gun on you.”

“Do you really want to risk it?”

Nobody replied to that.

“Someone had better get me out of here now or I’ll shoot _all_ of you.”

Dick looked around. “Well Damian’s the most heavily armored, so if he goes in and grabs Jason’s arms the rest of us can pull both of them out.”

“Dick, This seems like a _terrible_ plan.” Tim said.

“For once, I agree with Tim.” Jason added. “This seems like a great way to get _shredded_ by thorns.”

“Well I don’t see anyone coming up with a better plan.”

“Actually, I’ve got one.” Tim said.

Everyone looked at him.

“WE send Damian in first, like you said. He pulls the vines away from Jason’s face, and we get like, a big stick or something, and we pull Jason out with that.”

“Okay,” Dick admitted, “That is a better plan, but we need a branch or something.”

“Got it.” Cass said, and Dick spun around to see that she had somehow already retrieved a branch of the appropriate size.

“That was fast.” Dick said, impressed.

Tim snorted. “It was like three feet behind her.”

Cass stuck her tongue out at him.

“Alright then. Damian, you’re up.”

Damian slunk into the bush, carefully pulling vines away from Jason’s face.

“Brat, if you get me scratched on purpose I’ll—“

“TT. You’ll what Todd, shoot me? How original.”

Jason fumed silently.

“You good there, Damian?” Dick asked.

Once Damian had most of the vines gathered up in his hands, he slid sideways into the bush, being mindful of the drop off. “I believe so.”

“Alright then,” Dick said, “Cass?”

“Wait!” Jason yelled. “I still have a tub of berries in here.”

Dick reached into the bush, carefully taking the tub Jason handed up. It was heavier than he expected, and he almost dropped it. “How many did you pick?” he asked, incredulous.

“What can I say? I want cobbler.”

Dick stepped back, placing Jason’s tub with everyone else’s.

“Ok Cass, we’re good to go.”

Cass passed on end of the branch into the bush, and Jason grabbed hold of it. Tim stepped close to the bush and grabbed the middle of the branch.

“I know Cass is strong and all, but I doubt the two of you are going to be able to do this on your own.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Quit stalling and go.”

“Fine.” Jason switched his grip on the branch.

Dick started to count down. “Three. Two. One— Everyone pull!”

Tim and Cass dug in their heels while Jason heaved himself up along the branch and Damian pressed himself even farther into the side of the bush. Unfortunately they’d overestimated the amount of strength necessary to manage the task, because Jason got out of the hole easily, but stumbled forward and knocked Tim and Cass backward into Dick. All four off then tumbled over on a tangle of limbs.

For a moment, they all just laid on the ground, out of breath.

“Well that was something.” Dick said.

Jason groaned. “I think Damian missed one near my neck. Something stings.”

“Actually Jason,” Tim laughed nervously, “I think that was me. I haven’t clipped my fingernails in a while.”

Jason sat up. “What the _fuck,_ Tim.”

“Language!” Cass and Dick said at the same time.

“Okay, first of all, the two of you swear more than I do—“ Jason started.

Damian stepped out of the bush. “ That is false, Todd, and you know it.”

Jason got to his feet. “You know Dick censors himself around you, right?”

Damian looked at Dick. “Grayson?”

Dick smiled in apology. “Sorry, Lil D.”

“TT. You are aware that I’ve heard worse than you could ever say.”

Tim sat up too. “I dunno Damian, Dick can be a pretty creative swearer.”

“Blackberries.” Cassandra reminded them all.

Tim hefted Jason’s container. “Actually Cass, I think we might have enough for like, four cobblers.”

Dick sat up, doing a mental tally of all the containers. “Yeah I think we do.”

“Finally.” Jason said. “Alfred’s cobbler will make hanging out with all of you idiots worth it.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “C’mon guys. Let’s eat.”

Of course, there were two attempted stabbings in the hour and a half before the cobbler was done, but that was one attempted stabbing down from last week, so Dick counted the afternoon as a win.


	3. Parents: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce goes to the circus. It's not what you think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Redhoodlum223 requested Bruce+his kids' biological parents.

On the last night before Bruce planned to leave for the next phase of his training, Magnificent Mackenzie loaded him up in the car and drove them forty miles west.

“Where are we going?” Bruce asked, once he judged that enough time had passed that the question would be reasonable rather than paranoid.

“Haly’s has their best act on tonight.”

“Haly’s?” Bruce asked, recognizing one of Circus Magnifica’s competitors. “Isn’t it a betrayal for you to take me there?” One thing he’d learned under Mackenzie’s tutelage was how tightly-knit the circus was.

Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “I have friends over there, and you need to see the Graysons while you have the chance. You’ve reached the end of what I can teach you, but they’re the best in the business.”

Bruce was aware of that. If the couple were taking students, he’d be with them, not Mackenzie. He suspected she knew that as well.

“Now,” Mackenzie said, “Shut up until we get there.”

 

* * *

 

After the show, Mackenzie dragged him backstage because “We can’t just _leave_. That would be rude.” She said it like an grandmother, despite the fact that she was only six years older then Bruce.

“Mary!” She yelled when she caught sight of one of the performers.

“Kenzie?” ‘Mary’ said, walking over. “It is you!” Her face split into a grin and she pulled Mackenzie into a hug. “How’s Magnifica?”

Mackenzie released Mary and stepped back. “Same old, same old. What about you? How’s parenting?”

Mary pushed a few strands of hair out of her face. “ _Exhausting_.” She said, but her eyes were sparkling.

Bruce stood awkwardly to the side while the two women chatted. He was considering making a break for it and waiting in the car when Mackenzie waved him over.

“Bryce! Come meet Mary.”

Bruce shuffled over, holding out a hand to shake. “Bryce Anderson. Nice to meet you.”

Mary shook it, looking from Bruce to Mackenzie. “Are you two—“

Mackenzie laughed. “God no. This stiff—“ She elbowed Bruce in the side. “—Showed up in the middle of the night and offered me a buttload of money to teach him how to fly. And I’m not one to turn down good money! Of course, if I’d known how much trouble he’d be, I’d have turned him away!” She laughed.

Bruce smiled, more because that was what he was supposed to do than because he found it funny. “That’s me, always causing trouble.”

Mary smiled kindly. “You must be motivated, most of Kenzie’s students flee into the night, never to be heard from again.” She wiggled her fingers to indicate spookiness.

“Hey!”

Mary grinned. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to John.”

She led them out the back of the tent and around to where a man was trying to light a fire in a small ring of stones next to a trailer. A little boy sat on a stool next to him chanting “S’mores! S’mores! S’mores!” In a high pitched voice.

“Alright Dickie, wait just a second. Dad’s gotta get the other lighter.”

“S’MORES!” the child shrieked.

The man stood up, and Mary called out “John!”

He looked over. “There you are!” he scooped up the boy and tossed him at Mary. Bruce tensed, but evidently this was a common occurrence, since Mary caught the giggling boy easily.

“Mama, _s’mores_.” The boy said gravely.

“After you meet our guests.” Mary chided.

The boy pouted, but he ran over to Mackenzie the second his mother put him down. “Hi! I’m Dick!”

Mackenzie smiled. Evidently she found the boy’s enthusiasm infectious. “I’m Mackenzie. We’ve met before, but you probably don’t remember.”

John walked over and picked up his son, swinging the boy up onto his shoulders. “Mackenzie! It’s been a while. How’s Magnifica treating you?”

“Better than Albert’s ever did.” She said.

“What brings you here? It’s not exactly the shortest drive.”

She poked Bruce forward. “I wanted Bryce here to see you before he leaves tomorrow.”

Bruce did his best inviting smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Grayson.”

John shook Bruce’s hand. “Enjoy the show?”

Bruce nodded. “It was quite the spectacle.”

John laughed. “Well that’s one way of putting it.”

Dick drummed on his father’s head, clearly demanding attention. “S’mores.” He reminded.

Mackenzie grinned. “We should probably head out. I’d hate to keep you from s’mores.”

John nodded like it was a matter of great importance. “I think Dick might explode if I don’t get that fire started.”

“I won’t _explode_.” Dick said.

Mary stepped forward, giving Mackenzie another quick hug. “Stop by anytime.”

“Will do.”

“It was uh, nice to meet you.” Bruce said.

Mackenzie rolled her eyes, dragging Bruce away. “See ya soon!”

“Bye!” Dick called.

Once they were back in the car, Bruce spoke up. “They seem nice.”

“God, you’re awkward. I can’t even tell if you thought Mary was hot or if you’re just a weirdo.”

“What!? I—“

“Oh shut it.” She said, though there was a not of fondness in her voice. “If you though she was hot I’d have to beat you up because she’d married, and if you didn’t I’d have to beat you up because she’s my best friend and she’s clearly the most attractive woman on the eastern seaboard.”

Bruce opted to change the subject. “How do you know them?”

“My old circus- Albert’s- used to tour with Haly’s sometimes. We performed together a bunch.”

“You’re new to Circus Magnifica, right?” Bruce asked, “Why not just go with Haly’s when you left Albert’s?”

Mackenzie shook her head. “They’re starting a family. As soon as Dick gets a little bigger, the Flying Graysons will have their third member. It’s not my place to intrude. _And_ —“ She switched to a lighthearted tone. “—What a beautiful family it is, am I right? I’ve never seen more perfect human beings…”

She went on, but Bruce tuned her out. He was glad that he hadn’t approached the Graysons for lessons. Mackenzie was right. It wasn’t anyone’s place to intrude.


	4. Parents: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A routine interrogation.

“Robin, get the door!” Batman shouted.

Robin ran to cover the door while Batman chased a particularly adventurous goon out the window. The man went up rather than down, a maneuver that might have given the police pause, but was really just playing into Batman’s hands.

Batman caught him before he even reached the edge of the roof, slamming the man down into the concrete.

“Two-Face.” Batman spat. “Where is he!?”

The man swallowed, visibly shaking. “I don’t know.”

Bruce fished the man’s wallet out of his jacket pocket, flipping it open. “There’s more cash in here than a man like you normally carries. Which means—“ Batman put pressure on the man’s chest. Not enough to really hurt, but enough to threaten hurt. “—You pulled a job recently. So, Mr. Todd, _where is Two-Face_.”

“How- how d’ya know my name?” The man seemed on the edge of panic.

Batman read it off his driver’s license. They didn’t keep this type around for brains. “Answer. The. Question.” He growled.

Willis Todd gulped again. “I dunno! Honest!”

“Then why don’t I believe you?”

Todd opened his mouth again, but Batman cut him off by heaving him up and holding him over the edge of the roof. “Last chance.”

Todd’s eyes went wide. “Please! I have a kid!” He sounded like he was grasping for straws. If having a kid would get him out of this interrogation, he was going to use that.

“Do you really think I care.”

Todd clutched at Batman’s arm. “Please! Please…”

He’d clearly panicked overmuch. Batman threw him back onto the solid roof.

“Two-Face. I want a location.” Batman gave Todd a moment to collect himself, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to reply Batman stepped closer, so that he was looming ominously.

“He’s—“ Todd gasped, giving in. “—He said something about a shipment? At the pier.”

‘The pier’ barely narrowed down the search area at all, but Batman knew it was the best he was going to get. He slapped cuffs on the man. “Gordon’s men will be here to pick you up soon. Hopefully before you freeze too much.”

Todd shivered. “Wait, you can’t just leave me up here!”

Batman stopped. “Your child deserves better than you.” He informed the man.

“Wait, what? What the fuck!? WHAT THE—“

Batman jumped off the edge of the building, missing whatever the man had been about to say in the whoosh of air and whir of his grapple line. Scum who saw their kids as bargaining chips weren’t worth listening to anyway.


	5. "You're in danger"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> "You're in danger" with Tim Drake please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being shorter and sillier than I wanted, but oh well.

“You’re in danger.”

Jason snorted, walking out of the kitchen. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jason, this is serious! There’s a five million dollar bounty on your head!”

“If you think Cobblepot scares me—“  
“No, I don’t” Tim cut him off. “But I think he should. Or at the very least the people who are going to come after you should.”

“C’mon. It’s not like we’re dealing with Deathstroke the Terminator here. This is gonna be third-rate mercenaries _at best_.”

“Five. Million. Dollars. Five million Jason! Do you know how much that is?”

“Do you, rich boy? ‘Cause last I checked, that’s the annual batarang budget.”

Tim sighed. “Just please, _please_ lay low for a little while. Or patrol with a partner or something. Anything.”

“Suuuuuure.”

“You’re going to go blow up the iceberg lounge to make a statement aren’t you.”

“Yeeeeeep.”

“I can’t let you do that.” Tim warned.

“Well,” Jason said, pulling his jacket and guns out of the closet, “It’s not like you can stop me, so I guess you’ll have to come with.”

“I hate you. I hate you so much.”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

 


	6. "I can't stand the silence between us."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> camsthisky asked:
> 
> "I can't stand the silence between us." With Dick and Bruce please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. Damian the Deus Ex Machina

The moment the roof of the car slid shut Dick turned to Bruce. “What the _hell_ happened out there!?”

“Later.” Bruce said, not looking away from the steering wheel.

“No,” Dick snapped. “We’re talking about this now.”

“In front of half the GCPD.”

“This car is fucking soundproof!” Dick yelled. “You could scream bloody murder and none of them would be the wiser!”

“It will be suspicious if the car just sits here.”

Dick restrained the urge to hit him. “I really don’t give a fuck.”

Bruce ignored him and put the car in gear, pulling out onto the street.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Later.” Bruce growled.

“If you think you can put this off until we get back to the cave—“

Bruce’s hand’s tightened around the steering wheel, and he appeared to have a physical struggle before grinding out, “Please.”

Dick seethed silently the rest of the way back, only to jump out of the car the second the roof slid open and storm across the cave. If he stayed to close to Bruce he’d probably take a swing. Dick hated being the one to throw the first punch. It was the fastest way to lose the moral high ground. He might win a fight against Bruce. But he’d never win the argument if he made it physical.

He turned back around to face the car. “Why!? Why did you interfere!? I had it handled!”

“There was another man, on the roof.” Bruce said, voice flat. “You didn’t see him.”

“That’s why?” Dick laughed mirthlessly. “You thought I couldn’t handle _one more guy_. You were fine with me going out, _on your orders_ , and fighting six guys with guns. But you drew the line at the guy having a smoke on the roof.”

“Dick—“

“No,” Dick said, incredulous. “That can’t have been it. You don’t have that little faith in my abilities.”

Bruce stayed silent.

Dick clenched his fists. “So that’s it. You think I’m incompetent.”

“Dick—“

“No. I just. I can’t do this right now. I can’t believe, after _everything_ —“

The beginning of Dick’s rant was abruptly cut off by Damian’s bike screaming into the cave.

The youngest member of the family yanked off his helmet and ran over, looking Dick up and down. “Grayson! Are you unhurt?”

“I’m fine, Damian.” Dick said, perhaps more curtly than necessary. “I had it handled.”

Damian still looked worried. “Are you certain you haven’t aggravated your injury?”

Dick blinked, confused. “What?”

Damian still had his mask on, but it was clear he was rolling his eyes. “The concussion you sustained on you last mission with the imbeciles you call ‘friends’ I had not realized it impaired your memory as well.”

Dick blinked. “Where’d you hear about that?”

“Tt. Todd informed me. I believe he heard it from Troy.”

Dick mustered half a smile. “I’m fine. It barely even counted as a minor concussion. Lilith declared me fit for duty and everything.”

Damian looked skeptical.

“Really,” Dick assured, “I’m fine. Sorry I worried you.”

“Tt. _I_ was not worried. Father was the one who seemed most distressed.”

Dick looked up at Bruce, who had moved over to the computers. “Damian,” Dick said slowly, “When, exactly, did Jason tell you this?”

“Not long after you left to handle Cobblepot’s meeting.”

Dick pilled Damian into a quick hug. “Why don’t you go upstairs?” He asked, forcing a full smile this time. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

Damian looked from Dick to Bruce, finally sensing the tension. “Grayson?”

“It’ll be fine, Lil D. Go get dressed.”

Damian hesitated, then nodded once and scampered off.

Dick straightened up slowly, taking time to choose his words.

“I can’t stand the silence between us, Bruce. If you thought I was fighting concussed you could have just said something.”

Bruce turned the computer chair around, looking like nothing less than one of Bond’s greatest villains. If Alfred the cat had been on his lap it would have completed the image. “I didn’t want to distract you.”

Dick ran a hand through his hair, some of his anger draining away. “I know I don’t have the best track record for telling people when I’m hurt, but you don’t need to swoop in on a suspicion. I already had GCPD backup.”

Bruce grunted. It was impossible to tell if it was a dismissal or an acknowledgement.

“Next time you’re worried, just ask me, okay? We big kids gotta use our words.”

Bruce almost smiled at that. “Go join Damian. He was nearly hysterical with worry.”

Dick remembered the night-frantic way Bruce crashed into the meeting, barely an hour before. “Looks to me like he wasn’t the only one.”


	7. "When you fall, I'll be right there to catch you."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> momoejaku asked:  
> "When you fall, I'll be right there to catch you." with Dickbats looking after his little brother Damian?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set immediately after the events of Red Robin #12

When Grayson and Brown took Drake upstairs to get rid of his so-called “friends” Damian slipped quietly into the training area. He took down one of the practice swords and went to work on the practice dummies. It wasn’t the most productive training, but it was stimulating nonetheless. He wasn’t certain how long he was at it before Grayson returned to retrieve him.

“Having fun there, Lil’ D?”

Damian faltered his strike, jarring the blade in his grip. He growled and repeated the move, this time to his satisfaction. He should have noticed Grayson before he spoke, that was a rookie mistake.

“Tt. Your observation skills require improvement. This is not _fun_. This is training.”

Acting as if Damian had never spoken, Grayson tugged the blade out of his hands. “The Titans took Tim and Steph out with them. We’ve got the place to ourselves again. Well,” he amended, “us and Alfred.”

“Why should I care where Drake and his cohorts went?”

Grayson rolled his eyes. It was a gesture Damian was becoming familiar with.

“Come on. We can get changed and maybe watch a movie or something.”

“That sounds juvenile.”

“You haven’t seen The Princess Bride yet, have you?”

“I will not watch one of your romantic comedies, Grayson.”

“Are you kidding? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles! It’s the best swashbuckling adventure movie! You’ll love it.”

“I most certainly will not.” Damian paused. Grayson had been telling him he needed to be more considerate lately. “However, I will indulge your request.”

Grayson smiled. “Kind of you.”

“Of course.”

Slightly less than two hours later, Grayson turned off the television and turned to Damian. “What do you think?”

“Tt. The fight scenes were unrealistic and the plot riddled with holes.”

“You loved it.”

“It was not as idiotic as I had expected.” Damian admitted.

Grayson grinned, but then his expression abruptly sobered. “So, what was bothering you earlier?”

Damian blinked at the abrupt change in topic. “ I haven’t the slightest idea what you are referring to.”

“Damian,” Grayson sighed, “You were beating on those dummies for almost an hour. You never do something like that unless you’re upset.”

Damian scoffed. “What would I be upset about? Drake managed to foil grandfather—a miracle considering how incompetent he is, but I suppose with all the help he received failure was impossible.”

An expression of understanding passed over Grayson’s face. “So this is about us helping Tim.”

“Tt. There is no ‘this’ and even if there were, it would have nothing to do with Drake.”

“Damian,” Grayson said, “You know that we’d do the same for you in a heartbeat, right? When _you_ fall, I’ll be right there to catch you.”

“Obviously.” Damian said, successfully hiding the blush that crept onto his face, “I merely fail to see the point of me assisting Drake when he would not repay the favor.”

“Oh, Damian,” Grayson said, “Do you really think Tim hates you that much?”

“He resents me for claiming my rightful position.” Damian was surprised Drake hadn’t yet made an attempt on his life, or at least bid to steal Robin.

Grayson slid of the couch and knelt in front of Damian. “Tim may be angry, yes, but he’d come through if it mattered. He always does.”

“You cannot be certain of that.” Damian hadn’t wanted to help Drake. He only did so last night because of his obligation to Grayson. Drake had no such obligation.

Grayson puled Damian into a hug. “Of course I can. He’s my brother too. And besides—“ Grayson stood, lifting Damian off the couch, ignoring his protests. “—If he don’t want to, I’ll drag him along anyway.”


	8. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> idk if you're still taking prompts from the list but if you are how about bruce and jason “please, please, i’ll do anything just talk to me.” or #56 "you don’t have to act like you’re okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set at an indeterminate point in the timeline, but referring to the events of Under the Hood. (the comic, not the UtRH movie)

The only indication that someone had approached was a slight change in the way the wind moved through Jason’s hair. Even so, it was enough.

“Hey Bats. Nice of you to drop by.”

“Jason—“

“Of course, It woulda been nicer if you’d brought me the Joker’s head in a bag, but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.”

Bruce sighed and came around to sit in the edge of the roof next to Jason, his legs dangling off the side. “About tonight—“

“Save it for someone who cares.” Jason snapped.

“I thought we were past this.”

Jason shot to his feet, furious. “Past this? PAST THIS!? We’ll _never_ be _past this_ , Bruce. Not as long as _he_ lives.”

“We caught him before he hurt anyone.”

Jason scooped his helmet off the roof, jamming it onto his head. “I don’t know why I bother.” He pulled out his grapple and aimed for the next building down.

“Jason wait.”

Jason whirled around to face Bruce. “I don’t see why I should.”

Bruce removed the cowl. “Please, Just talk to me. I’ll do anything.”

“You’ve made it pretty clear that you won’t.”

“You wanted me to kill him tonight.”

“OF COURSE I DID!” Jason clenched his fists and took a deep breath, continuing at a more reasonable volume. “But I _don’t care_ , okay? It’s not anything new. Just leave me alone.”

“You don’t have to act like you’re detached from this, Jay.”

“Pot, Kettle.”

“I’m not—“

“I made my terms clear,” Jason said, trying to keep a reign on his temper, “Either accept them or get out of the way.”

“I can’t let you kill him.”

“You _can’t_? Or you _won’t_? Because it doesn’t seem that hard.”

“Why do you ask for—“ Bruce clamed don on the rest of the sentence before it came out, but Jason knew how it ended. They’d had this conversation before. _Why do you ask for the one thing I can’t give?_

“Why do I—“ Jason realized his hand was reflexively inching toward the gun on his hip, and he crossed his arms instead. He remembered what Dick said, the last time they’d talked about this.

_“He’d die for you Jay, cant you see that?”_

_“He’d die for anyone.”_

“Because,” Jason said, coming back to the present. “Everything else is cheap to you. The only thing you care about is your god damned moral code. There’s no room for anything else.” Jason turned to leave.

An edge of desperation crept into Bruce’s voice. “Please don’t vanish again.”

 _Not like last time_. He meant.

Jason turned back to Bruce. “And how long did you spend looking for me, Bruce? Fifteen minutes? An hour? Or did you decide I must’ve bled out two minutes in and ran to Blüdhaven?”

Judging by Bruce’s expression, Jason hit a nerve. “Dick was—“

“Dick wasn’t there. And If I’d died from this—“ Jason tugged down the collar of his jacket to show off the scar just over his collarbone where the batarang hit. “—It would have been _your_ doing. You were so damned against killing _him_ that you nearly killed _me_.” Jason was glad the helmet hid the tears stinging at his eyes. “And for what? So he could just escape again. And you have the nerve to tell me _we got him before he hurt anyone_.”

Bruce’s expression had gone more and more blank throughout Jason’s rant, which meant either he was about to explode, or he was distancing himself from the conversation. Jason didn’t care either way.

“Jason—“

“I should’ve left Gotham forever as soon as I realized what you _really_ cared about.”

 _I don’t care about him._ Bruce could’ve said _. I love you Jason. I’m sorry I replaced you. I’m sorry I made you live in the same world as your murderer all this time._ But instead, all he said was “Give me a chance.”

“You’ve used all your chances. Next time he escapes, catch him without my help.” And this time, when Jason fired his grapple, Bruce didn’t try to stop him.


	9. "You're family."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> "you're family." with damian and jason please !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cheated the prompt a bit.

“He’s coming around.”

“That much is obvious.”

“You know what Damian—“

“Woah, okay. Tim, you come with me and we’ll find Bruce. He’ll want to talk to Jason now that he’s awake.”

There was the sound of a door closing, and Jason swam back toward consciousness, blinking bleary eyes. “Wha happ’nd?” he directed the question at the blurry shape that was probably a person next to him.

“Tt. You managed to get yourself injured on patrol.”

So the shape was Damian, but what was he doing here? He hated being around injured people more than absolutely necessary. He even fled when Dick was hurt, and the kid would do _anything_ for Dick.

“Why’re you here?”

Damian crossed his arms. “As I am the one who found you, I am ensuring that you don’t ruin my work by running off.”

Jason got two pieces of information from that: A) Damian was the one who found him, and B) He was under orders to keep Jason prisoner in—Jason glanced around—Tim’s apartment, apparently.

“What’m I doing here?”

Damian made a face. “Drake’s residence was closest.”

That sounded familiar, but Jason still couldn’t remember anything prior to waking up here. “What happened?”

“Knife wound, left pectoral.”

Jason reached up and felt the bandages on his chest. “And I passed out?”

“I believe there may have also been sleep depravation involved.”

Jason looked at Tim’s ceiling. “Huh.”

“You are also on painkillers, Grayson claimed you may be ‘loopy’.” Damian’s voice dropped an octave. “You’ve been overexerting yourself of late.”

The second statement was so quiet Jason almost missed them. “What?”

“You continue to work in Gotham as well as with the Outlaws. It is unsustainable.”

“What’s this I hear? Hell spawn is worried about me?”

Damian rolled his eyes. Jason kind of hated that Dick taught him that. “I am merely expressing concern over your declining efficiency in the field.”

Jason waved him off. “I’m fine. If you want to bother someone about overworking themselves, talk to Tim. Or Dick. Or you know what? Talk to Bruce. See how well _that_ blows over.”

Damian stood abruptly. “If you will not listen to my advice I have no reason to be here.”

_Shit_. Damian acted so distant sometimes that it was easy to forget that he had a hair trigger. “Damian, wait.”

Damian stopped. “What do you want?”

“Thank you,” Jason said, “For finding me.”

“Tt. Any of the others would have done the same.”

Jason sighed internally. Dick was so much better at navigating the treacherous waters of a conversation with Damian. Jason would have expected him to take the thank you as an opportunity to lord his superiority over an easy target. “Yes, but you were the one who did.”

“I do not see the purpose in thanking me for something anyone would have done.”

“Please tell me Dick has explained the concept of a thank you,” Jason begged, “I’m to tired to do it right now.”

Damian scoffed. “Of course I understand the concept. I simply disagree with its application to this situation.”

“God, can’t you just accept a thank you? Most people say ‘no problem’ and move on.” Jason was getting dangerously close to whining now.

“I believe the customary response is, ‘you’re welcome’.”

“You’re such a little shit.”

Damian ducked his head, hiding a smile.

“So is Bruce nearby, or did Dick and Tim go all the way to the manor?”

“He should be patrolling in the area, he requested to be notified when you woke up, but his comm unit is malfunctioning.”

AKA Bruce went off-comm because he decided it was time to brood and didn’t want anyone to bother him. The guy belonged in a soap opera. Or a reality tv show. Come to think of it, this whole family seemed like a reality tv show sometimes. _Big Brother_ mixed with _Real Housewives_ crossed with _Chopped_ , only the chopping involved referred to limbs rather than vegetables.

Okay, so Jason’s mind was wandering. He’d had a long week.

“You see the guy who did this to me?”

Damian shook his head. “All I saw was you, bleeding in a dumpster. If I had to guess, I would assume that the perpetrator believed you far closer to death than you actually were, considering your loss of consciousness.”

Translation: The guy thought his job was done, so he dumped Jason and ran.

“How’d you find me if I was in a dumpster?”

“I tracked you from your last known location. The blood trail made it a simple matter.”

So Damian hadn’t just _happened_ to find him, he’d realized something was wrong and come looking. “Thank you.”

“You have thanked me already.” Damian said stiffly.

_“For all that he fishes for compliments,”_ Dick’s voice said in Jason’s head, “ _He’s terrible at accepting genuine praise. Especially if it doesn’t put anyone else down.”_

“Hey, not getting taken out with the trash is worth at least two thank yous.”

Damian sat back down, looking anywhere but at Jason. “You’re welcome.” He mumbled.

Jason considered needling him more, but decided against it. _It must be hard_ , he thought. Damian had been conditioned to have a strict definition of ally and enemy. Saving Jason would have gone against all his training.

“Tt. Grayson insists you’re family. Defending my… relations was a central tenant of my training.”

Wait, had Jason said that out loud? Shit, those painkillers must be kicking in.

“You said that out loud as well.”

Damn.

Somewhere in the apartment, a door opened.

“We found Bruce!” Dick called. “How’s Jay?”

“I believe he has escaped permanent damage.” Damian cast Jason a disdainful look, but the noticeable absence of an insult at the end of the statement made it nicer than Damian usually was.

Dick and Bruce entered the room. Bruce stood stoically, being useless, as per usual.

Dick waited a moment, and when it became clear no one else was going to speak, he clapped his hands together and said, “Well! Damian and I will leave you alone. C’mon Lil’ D.”

Ad they left the room Jason could hear Dick say. “Wait, are you smiling? You’re smiling! Did you like talking with Jaso—Ow!”


	10. “Wait. I didn’t mean that. Please, come back.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> “wait. i didn’t mean that. please, come back.” dick and damian!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a dirty prompt cheater and this one is going to hurt. Dickbats era.

By the time they got back to the bunker Dick had exhausted his repertoire of Bruce-isms, yet Damian still seemed unaffected. Things that would have gotten Dick to behave (Or, realistically, just apologize) just made Damian more stubborn.

As Dick put the car in park, he realized there was only one option left to him. “You’re benched. No Robin for a week.”

Damian squawked in indignation. “You cannot—“

“I can and I will,” Dick snapped, “And if you do something like this again it’ll be two weeks.”

“Father wouldn’t—“

“Bruce isn’t _here_ , Damian. I am, so you listen to me.” Bruce would have grounded Damian for a full month, but Dick didn’t say that. “Get changed, get a snack, and then go to bed. I’ll work out the rest of your punishment in the morning.”

Damian glared for a moment, then stormed off in a huff, vanishing into the showers just as the elevator doors opened to reveal Alfred.

“Good heavens! Did something happen?”

“You could say that.” Dick replied, pulling the cowl down. “A guy pulled a gun and Damian broke _both_ his arms.”

“Oh dear.”

Dick pulled the computer chair out and slumped down in it. “What am I doing wrong, Alfred?” He ran a gauntleted hand through his sweaty hair. “I thought we were making progress!”

“As I used to tell master Tim, Healing is rarely linear.”

The shower started while Dick tried to come up with a reply. “What if there’s nothing to heal?”

Alfred cast him a sharp look. “You cannot believe that.”

“I don’t.” Dick assured, “I just wonder sometimes. Nothing I do seems to work for long. He reacts badly to force, yet I can’t get him to react to anything else.”

“Master Damian is a boy of knives. A soft touch is all that will help him, though you may bleed in the process.”

Dick mustered a smile, leaning his head back. “How’d you get to be so wise, Alfred?”

“Master Damian is not the first sharp child I’ve helped to raise. Though I dare say you are having more success with him than I ever had with master Bruce.”

Dick looked up, meeting Alfred’s eyes, and saw his own grief and pain reflected back at him.

“God,” Dick said, dropping his head into his hands, “What am I even doing, letting him out there? He’s only in more danger.”

“You said it yourself: Giving him an outlet for his… energy, much in the same way Robin was for you.”

“He’s just so… raw. For all his training, he’s still impulsive and inexperienced, and he never follows orders—“ Dick stopped and laughed sadly. “I sound like Bruce.”

The shower stopped. Dick barely noticed. “Remember when he gave it to Jean Paul? I was so damned mad that he didn’t trust me with it, and now…” He trailed off. “Now I’m in over my head.” It was another few seconds before he said the thing he’d been thinking all night. “Maybe I should’ve kept Tim on as Robin.”

There was a sudden sound of running feet, and Dick looked up just in time to see Damian vanish up the stairs. Dick looked at Alfred “Do you think he heard—“

“Go.”

Dick ran, occasionally catching sight of Damian as he rounded each turn on the stairs. He should have taken the elevator, as it was clear Damian wanted to get as high as possible. Just as Dick thought that, he rounded the corner too see the stairwell doors swinging closed. Dick burst out of them just in time to see Damian rapidly mashing the “close door” button in the elevator.

“Damian, wait!”

The door closed just before Dick got there. He mashed the “up” arrow, but the doors didn’t open. Damn.

Dick ran back into the stairwell, going down this time. He ran back through the bunker and took the private elevator up. He hoped having the elevator that went all the way to the penthouse would be enough to make up for Damian’s lead.

He was lucky: Damian was still on the roof when Dick arrived, though that was most likely because they were eighty stories up, and Damian was in civies.

The wind beat angrily against Dick’s back as he crossed the roof. Damian edged away, going so far as to climb out on one of the gargoyles.

Dick stopped when it looked like Damian was putting himself in danger by moving father out.

“I didn’t mean that!” Dick yelled over the wind. “Please, come back inside!”

If Damian heard him, he gave no indication.

Dick decided to chance moving closer. “Please, Damian.”

Damian’s shoulders tense, but he didn’t try to escape, even when Dick climbed up on the gargoyle next to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Damian made a small sniffling sound. “I… apologize for my mistakes tonight, Grayson. I will attempt to be more vigilant in the future.”

Vigilant? What was Damian talking about?

“I am aware that my work tonight was sub-par. If you would rather have Drake’s assistance then I would be willing to use my skills to retrieve him for you.” The words were delivered at such a deadpan that the only indication that he wasn’t reading from the phonebook was the slight edge of scorn on ‘Drake’.

“I did not notice the gun until it had become a danger. If you will give me the chance, I will train harder in situational awareness so I do not repeat the mistake.”

Did Damian really not know what Dick was angry about? Come to think of it, he’d never specified the infraction, the whole ride home. He’d assumed it was obvious.

“I’m not mad about the gun.”

Damian looked up at that, surprised. “The second guard then. I—“

“No, Damian.” Dick cut him off. “I’m mad about what you _did_ to the man with the gun.”

Now Damian looked confused. “I dealt with him—“

“You broke both of his arms.”

“He did not rejoin the fi—“

“That was excessive force! It wasn’t necessary!”

Damian blinked at him, comprehension dawning on his face. “You believe I have turned my back on father’s teachings.”

Dick sighed. “No, I don’t think that. I just think you need to work on your self-control.”

Damian turned away. “I was completely in control of myself.”

“Damian—“

“The man had a gun. I fail to see how I employed excessive force.”

“All you had to so was disarm—“

“You have impressed upon me the importance of our partnership. ‘Watching each other’s backs’, as you put it.” Damian curled his knees up to his chest. “The rules keep changing. Am I not supposed to protect you?”

“Oh, Damian.” Dick slid along the gargoyle so he could pull the boy into a hug. “Of course we protect each other. But we don’t hurt people unnecessarily.”

Damian nodded against Dick’s shoulder. It was a testament to how emotionally wrung-out he was that he didn’t try to pull away.

Poor kid. He must have been so confused, not understanding what he’d done wrong.

In a minute, they’d have to go back inside, but for now Dick looked up at the smog-filled sky and imagined stars. _He’s a sweet kid, Bruce._

Dick tugged Damian closer.

_Beneath the tough exterior and the hurt he’s got a good heart. I hope you knew that, before the end._


	11. "I don’t want to feel like this tomorrow"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> "I don’t want to feel like this tomorrow" angst w/dick & dami

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wrote some dickbats era stuff, so I figured I’d try something different.

Dick was glad it wasn’t raining yet when he arrived at the park. It would have made sitting outside uncomfortable.

Damian was sitting on his favorite bench, sketchbook flipped open on his lap. To anyone else, the scene would have looked ordinary, but Dick could see the way Damian’s knuckles were white gripping the pencil, and the way the scene he was sketching was drawn in darker, angrier lines than Damian ever used. As Dick drew closer, he could see that the paper was indented from the pencil pressure, and that Damian was apparently trying to shade with a 4H pencil.

Dick sat down next to him. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Grayson.” Damian answered.

Dick leaned forward. “Drawing anything interesting?”

Damian flipped his sketchbook shut, but not before Dick caught a glimpse. “No.”

“Did you have something to tell me?” Dick coaxed.

Damian bit his lip. “No.”

“Something you wanted to do?”

“No.”

“You must have called me here for a reason.”

Damian didn’t respond.

Dick sighed. This wasn’t something he could force Damian to spit out. He’d just have to wait.

“I’m… cold.” Damian said finally, and Dick resisted the urge to say _of course you are, you’ve been sitting outside for hours._

“I know I shouldn’t be.” Damian whispered. “I know there’s nothing wrong with me. But…” Damian lapsed into silence.

“But?”

“But sometimes, I close my eyes and—“ Damian choked back a sob. “It feels like all the heat is pouring out of me. Like I’ll never be warm again.”

Damian turned away; it was obvious it had cost him something, to put that into words.

“Oh, Damian.” Dick said softly.

“And the worst part is that it doesn’t go away. Sometimes I forget, for a little while, but it always comes back, every day.”

Damian pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I don’t want to feel like this tomorrow.”

Dick reached over and pulled Damian into a hug, resting his chin on the top of his little brother’s head. Any words he could have offered felt like hollow comfort.

“How—how can I live like this, Grayson?”

Dick rocked him back and forth. “I don’t have any easy answers.”

Damian sniffled, starting to pull away, but Dick just held him tighter.

“But I can say that you’re alive now, and life finds a way. You’re strong enough to get through this.”

Damian snuffled. “Tt. Did you just quote that infantile dinosaur movie at me?”

Dick laughed a wet laugh. “Maybe. But my point stands.”

“And—“ Damian’s voice was small. “—And when I feel cold?”

Dick freed Damian’s hand from where it was trapped under his arm, bringing it up to Damian’s face. “Does this feel cold to you?”

“No.”

“There, you see?” Dick’s voice cracked on the last word. “Nothing to worry about.”

He felt Damian nod against his shoulder.

“Now, Lets get you inside. Alfred’s got the car just over there. Why don’t you go, while I get your stuff?”

Damian nodded again, and got up immediately when Dick released him, walking slowly toward the car.

Dick took a moment to gather up all Damian’s art supplies. IT looked like he’d dropped more than a few of them in the process of making his drawing, but Dick thought he got everything. He looked over, checking that Damian was in the car, before flipping the sketchbook open.

Dick had to shove down a sob. The scene was from a different perspective than he’d seen it before, but he’d never forget that blade. The worst part—even worse than the blade itself—were the few strokes meant to indicate Dick’s own prone form.

_I was right there._ He thought. _I was right there, and I didn’t stop it. I could have saved him from all of this, if only I’d been just a little better. A little faster._

For the first time, Dick thought he understood how Bruce felt when that warehouse exploded.

_I failed you. I’m so sorry._

The rain that had been threatening all afternoon finally started.


	12. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jerseydevious asked:  
> fuck me up, make me cry. bruce and dick, i want to sob. anything with fear toxin, let's Do This. revenge round

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there’s no way I can fit all my revenge into one fic. I owe you months of revenge, but as they say: “revenge is a dish best served seasoned with your own tears over that fic with the horse that @jerseydevious claimed would be nicer than the dead bird do not eat fic but it was a lie, a dirty lie.” *Charlton Heston voice* “You maniac! You made me cry! Damn you! Damn you all to hell!”

It was worse this time. So much worse, in fact, that Bruce doubted it was the same drug.

Whatever Crane used this time, its effects were instantaneous and devastating. Dick crumpled to the floor and was nearly catatonic in a matter of seconds. Time seemed to skip a beat and then Batman was throwing Crane aside to kneel next to the boy, peeling back his mask. Sure enough, Dick’s pupils were dilated, eyes flitting around but not quite seeing anything. Pulse rapid, breathing erratic, every muscle tense.

Scarecrow was long gone, but Bruce found he didn’t care.

_That needle was meant for me._ Bruce thought. It was an adult dosage. What kind of effect was it having on a child half his size?

Dick’s breath hitched, and his eyes finally seemed to focus on Bruce. He opened his moth like he was going to say something, but no words came out.

Bruce squeezed his hand. “Robin, can you hear me?” he asked, soft and an octave higher than he normally used in the cowl.

Dick’s jaw worked for a second. “Mom?” He whispered.

Bruce closed his eyes, a wave of guilt rising up in his chest. Of course. Of course that was what the name would make Dick think.

“No, chum.” Bruce said, as calmly as possible. “It’s Bruce.” He shouldn’t have used his name, but after last time he was sure ‘Batman’ would only scare Dick more.

Dick scrunched up his face. “Dad?”

Bruce breath caught. “It’s Bruce,” he corrected, “Let’s get you back to the cave.” If whatever this was didn’t wear off by then, they’d at least have medical equipment on hand.

“Home?” Dick whispered, sounding more broken than Bruce had ever heard him. Dick was always such an energetic kid, animated even in his sleep. To see him still like this meant something was wrong. Like a piece of reality itself was missing.

Bruce attempted a smile, knowing full well it probably looked unnerving with the cowl on. “Home,” he confirmed. He reached out a hand to help Dick up, but the boy shrank back, eyes blown wide with panic.

“No! Don’t touch me!”

Bruce pulled back, holding both hands up, trying to be reassuring.

But Dick wasn’t seeing him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I saw him. I didn’t stop him. I’m sorry!”

Bruce watched Dick dissolve into incoherence, feeling helpless. Comfort had never been his strong suit. “We need to get out of here,” he said, more to himself than anything else. It was unlikely Dick could hear him.

“I’m sorry!”

“Robin,” Bruce said, infusing his voice with authority, “We have to go.”

Dick’s eyes finally focused again, “Batman?”

Bruce nearly sighed in relief. “Yes, it’s me.”

“No. No no no no nononono.” Dick gasped, eyes locked on Bruce’s. “I’m sorry. I failed. I killed you. I’m sorry.”

_What_? “Robin—“

“Should’ve listened. Couldn’t handle him. Thought it was a bet I could win. Just a coin toss. But he lied. I didn’t know you’d fall. I didn’t ask what he was doing. I should’ve. He cut the line. I don’t… I didn’t…” Dick’s words grew more and more pained until he dissolved into sobs. “Sorry.”

Hesitantly, checking for any sign of discomfort, Bruce reached out and pulled Dick into his arms, ready to release him the moment he started to struggle. Dick tensed for a moment, but then relaxed, loud sobs slowly giving way to silent tears and gasping breaths.

“Shh.” Bruce whispered. “You’re okay. I’m here, you didn’t fail.”

Dick’s arms wrapped around Bruce’s neck, hands balling into fists in his cape. “’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice cracking. “I killed you. Please don’t throw me out.”

Bruce squeezed him tighter, unable to come up with any words that might be a comfort. If Dick was seeing what Bruce thought he was, there wasn’t anything to say. Bruce was no stranger to guilt, but he wished Dick didn’t have to be so familiar with it. The boy carried the world on his shoulders, and part of it was Bruce’s fault. His mistakes, his responsibility.

“Come on, chum,” Bruce said, standing slowly, “Let’s get you home.” Home, where they could hopefully find an antidote to free Dick from this nightmare.

Dick nodded into his shoulder, still shaking with silent sobs. “Th—thank you.”

Bruce shifted Dick to his hip so it would be easier to walk. “I’m going to take you to the car now, okay?”

“Okay.” Dick said, but he still clutched tighter at Bruce’s neck with each step. Bruce could barely breathe by the time they reached the car.

“I’m going to put you down, okay? So I can drive us home. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

Dick’s breath sped up, but he nodded.

Bruce opened the passenger side door. He’d prefer to let Dick lie down in the back, but he suspected that degree of distance wasn’t going to fly. He arranged Dick in the seat, detangled his arms from the cape, shut the door, and circled the car, climbing into the driver’s seat. By the time he got there Dick was crying uncontrollably again.

“Please don’t leave.” He choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I won’t leave.” Bruce said. No matter what, he’d stay until Dick made it through this.

Dick sniffled. “Promise?”

“Of course.” He wouldn’t let Dick out of his sight until he fixed this.

Dick’s hand latched onto Bruce’s arm, fingers digging in. “Promise you’ll never leave me?”

Bruce’s heart was in a vice. “Dick, I can’t—“

“Please,” Dick said, grabbing Bruce’s shoulder with is other hand. “Please. Promise you’ll stay forever.” He looked to be on the verge of another breakdown.

Bruce swallowed the lump in his throat. “I promise.”

Dick released his arm, apparently satisfied, and entered a sort of stupor while Bruce started the car. It was several minutes before Dick spoke again; so quiet Bruce almost missed it.

“Love you, Dad.”

This time, Bruce didn’t correct him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We technically had “Baby’s first fear toxin” in Scarecrow year one, but that was more like proto-fear toxin, so this is Baby’s first real fear toxin.  
> Also, I’ve said this before, but “Suddenly” from the movie version of Les Mis is the definitive Bruce & Dick song and everyone should listen to it.


	13. "Dick's not just your brother."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Can you do "Dicks not just your brother!" With Tim and Damian please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was really stuck on writing this a certain way, and it wasn’t working, but when @camsthisky started the content war I figured it was time to start this one from scratch. I’m much happier with this version.
> 
> Ha ha ha ha I can’t not cheat these prompts. I think it’s pretty obvious what part of the timeline this is.

It was almost an hour before Tim found him. Frankly, he was surprised Bruce hadn’t already checked out here. In hindsight, it seemed obvious. When Damian wanted comfort he only ever went to one person.

Tim made sure to make noise as he approached; he had no idea how out of it the kid was.

Damian stiffened, but gave no other indication he knew Tim was there.

Tim sighed. “Are you ready to come back in?” He hoped so. He wasn’t qualified to handle Damian in an emotional state.

“Inform Father,” Damian said, his voice quavering only slightly, “That I am perfectly fit to patrol.”

Tim sat down next to Damian, ignoring the way the wet grass would leave statins on his clothes. “I can’t tell him that, because I agree with him.”

Damian shot him a look of betrayal.

“I think you’re better off letting it heal for a little while rather than going back out to get hurt again,” Tim said.

Damian grumbled, but it was tinged with more sadness than anger. “I should have known you wouldn’t understand.”

Tim clenched his fists. He came out here to drag Damian back inside, not ave a heart-to-heart. “Understand what? The desperate need to prove yourself? To be better, faster, stronger, so nobody notices how _weak_ you are? Or is it that I don’t understand burying grief in work and violence?”

Damian sniffed and turned away, and Tim silently cursed himself. Damian needed comfort right now, something Tim wasn’t equipped to give.

Finally, Damian said, “Grayson would have taken my side.”

Tim snorted. That was genuinely funny. “Dick would have benched you just as long. He just would have been nicer about it.”

“Tt. How can _you_ know what he would do. We were the ones who were partners.”

There was the sadness again, masquerading as anger.

“Dick wasn’t just your brother,” Tim said, “He was mine too, and Jason’s, and Cass’s. You aren’t the only one grieving.”

“Father seems unaffected.”

So _that_ was what this was about.

“Bruce is…” Repressing his emotions to the point that he was going to explode and go off the deep end any day now. “…Grieving in his own way.”

Damian curled up into himself, burying his head in his knees. “Why me?” He asked. “Why me, and not him? Why…” His voice broke.

Tim reached out hand hesitating over Damian’s shaking shoulder. He had the sense that this breakdown was a long time coming, that Tim was just a stand-in for whoever was supposed to be here. Bruce maybe, but the only person who could have truly gotten through to Damian was the one he was mourning. What could Tim offer? He wasn’t exactly a paragon of healthy coping mechanisms himself.

“He…” Damian gasped, “If I’d been there…”

“You couldn’t have done anything,” Tim said, brutally, “None of us could have. You—“ _You already died for him once_. That was the cruelty of it. Damian made the ultimate sacrifice, and all it did was buy Dick a few months. It wasn’t even enough for them to be reunited. “You did all you could.”

Damian failed to hide how he rubbed at his eyes. “Some partner I was. I failed, and Grayson, he… he…”

Tim pulled Damian into a side-hug. It was a testament to how out of it Damian was that he didn’t fight it.

What would Dick say, in this situation? Something reassuring, but beyond reassuring, it would be true, because Dick didn’t need to lie to reassure. “Do you want to know what he said to me after your funeral?”

Damian didn’t reply, so Tim continued, “He asked, ‘do you think he knew how much I loved him?’”

Damian sucked in a breath.

“I told him of course you knew. That there’s no world where Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne don’t love each other with all their hearts. That it was a universal constant. He loved you, Damian. It’s not like that’s gone, just because he is. That’s not how love works. And before you ask, yes, he knew you loved him too.”

“He tried to tell me to run, right before. All I did was tell him I enjoyed our partnership.”

That wasn’t how Dick told it. “He knew you better than anyone. He understood.”

Damian broke down in sobs while Tim held him, watching the gray stone in front of them.

_Typical Dick,_ Tim thought, _Getting us to talk, even when he’s not here._


	14. 3 Microprompts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think these were from a "five sentence microfic" meme that I totally broke the rules for.  
> Featuring Dick & Damian, Steph & Jason, and Tim & Steph

> anonymous  asked:
> 
> He's going insane. It's the only reasonable answer.

“I think you might be overreacting,” Tim said.

“No nonono,” Stephanie replied, “hear me out. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results, right?”

“That’s not the–”

“And he just _keeps adopting kids_ expecting them to turn out like… better… or something.”

“As much as I want to argue with you about how well-adjusted we are, I’m just going to skip straight to _we are not buying Bruce a straightjacket for Father’s day.”_

 

* * *

  

> anonymous  asked:
> 
> What do you mean you ate all the captain crunch!

“I meant that I ate all the Captain Crunch, Stephanie. I thought college students were supposed to understand simple sentences?”

Stephanie sat down at her kitchen table with a huff. “Why are you _here_ , eating _my_ _cereal,_  Jason?”

“Dick said you needed help with your english paper.” Jason said, far more sincere.

“He listened to that? That’s so sweet I– wait. Don’t distract me.”

“Distract you from wh–”

“Why the _Captain Crunch!?”_

 

* * *

 

> [renecdote](http://renecdote.tumblr.com/)  asked:
> 
> Dick isn’t really expecting an answer when he knocks on the door.

“Damian?”

It’s a testament to how far Damian’s come that the boy sobs “ _Not now_ ” rather than staying silent or screaming.

Dick tries the doorknob. Locked. He leans his head into the cool, dark wood. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

For a moment, he thinks that’ll be the end of it, but then there’s the soft click of the door unlocking.

Dick smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [@chimaerakitten.](http://chimaerakitten.tumblr.com) Prompts are currently closed, but may reopen soon.


End file.
